The Oreans

Chapter 35

Chapter 35
A Hasty Departure

"Weren't Adrien and Rafim here yet?"

Then at the point of buckling his sword, Divan turned around to see Alen sitting up from bed.

"Yes, and I'm really worried now," he answered. "I've been up all night waiting for them."

"You did not go back to sleep at all? Oh, I'm sorry, Van. I should have kept you company."

Divan could not help smiling at Alen's way of speaking. It had always been too mature for his age. He did not tell him so though, saying instead, "You needed your rest so say nothing more of that."

"I'm wondering where they could have gone to."

"I feel the same. If you'll be ready within fifteen minutes, we'll go to find that out ourselves."

He watched as Alen got up and went to wash his face, realizing with wonder how much the boy had grown since they had first met and how much his bearing had improved. Perhaps due to his numerous concerns, he had not noticed how his little friend was fast growing into a man. That little friend seemed to be having concerns himself, for Divan could recognize Alen's far away look as he was buttoning up his coat.

"What's on your mind, Alen?" he asked.

"Huh?"

Divan repeated his question. Alen hesitated in answering, "I don't know if it's worth the trouble asking--- but..."

"Try me."

"Van, you have had a recurrent dream, haven't you? Just like about that girl falling down the cliff. And you said last night that you thought it could be out of a memory. But what if your memory is intact? Can such dream have any meaning?"

"I don't know, Alen," he answered, puzzled. "Why? Have you had such dreams like mine?"

"Not exactly. Mine are—well, you can say—fantastic, but so vivid as if they were really happening. There is the same person, but the circumstance she's in varies from dream to dream. If I couldn't remember everything so well—like in my other dreams—and there wasn't the same person, I wouldn't have dwelt on them."

"Who was the person in your dream?"

"I don't really know," Alen said, a struggle working on his still boyish features. "I have a guess, but even to me it seems far-fetched."

"Why?"

Alen considered him, opened his mouth, closed it, and then shaking his head, said finally, "Forget that I've asked. Maybe I'm just making too much of nothing at all...."

Messing up Alen's hair, Divan agreed quietly to let go of the subject. He could feel it was no trivial matter for Alen, but he respected the boy. Alen needed as much space as he did. Besides, if Alen was anything like him, he would spill things out in his own good time.

"If you're ready, then let's go."

Leaving their room together, they would have gone straight outside if the innkeeper, a man with a mop of brown curls, had not detained them.

"You have two messages here, Sir Van, Sir Alen. One's from your friend, Adrien. The other was from a certain Rafim."

Divan caught Alen's puzzled look as he took the two messages.

"Were you awake last night at around midnight?" the innkeeper went on asking as he closed the box that contained the messages. "I heard music from your room sometime before that."

"No, we weren't," Divan answered.

"You weren't? Then you didn't know what happened?"

"Why—what happened, sir?" It was Alen, sounding excited.